Wherever You Will Go
by seilleanmor
Summary: Sometimes, a little getaway is just what you need. Sequel to 12 Days of Christmas. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Sometimes, a little getaway is just what you need. Sequel to 12 Days of Christmas._

_Castle is not mine._

_You don't need to have read 12 Days for this to make sense, but of course you're welcome to._

* * *

><p><em>For all of you that asked.<em>

He's been gone too long. He left on a Saturday. The 7th. A sweetly lingering kiss at the airport and a promise to call.

He has called. And text her, even though he knows she won't reply because transatlantic texting is way too expensive. They've skyped every evening. It's a little pathetic, but she misses him.

More than she ever knew she had the capacity to miss someone who's not gone for good. She misses his hand in hers, his kisses, the touch of his nose against her ear when he wants to tell her something just for her.

Misses his arms around her, his coffee, his jokes, his laughter. _Her_ laughter. It's flat without him. The boys can see she misses him, they're trying their best. They're sweet, but they're not _him_.

Her phone draws her attention away from her daydreams and she fishes in her bag for it before the ringer cuts out.

She sees his face on the caller ID and she's smiling as she brings the phone to her ear. "Hey."

"Hi, love. Where are you?"

She glances around herself. "I'm at the airport, just getting coffee. My flight's boarding in about twenty minutes."

He laughs and another wave of fierce longing washes through her. "Of course you're getting coffee. My driver will be waiting for you and he'll take you to my hotel. Where I'll be waiting."

She smiles, not caring that the middle aged woman next to her is staring. She's so happy. "Alright, I look forward to it. Hey Rick?"

"Hmm?"

"I really miss you."

His voice goes soft. She imagines him trying to find somewhere private. He's at a signing right now, she doesn't think it's started yet, but people must already be there. "I miss you too, Kate. I can't wait to see you." His voice muffles, his hand over the phone she assumes, can hear his voice, stifled and distant. Talking to someone else. And then he comes back to her. "I have to go, it's starting. I'll see you soon, okay. I love you."

It still fills her with butterflies. "I love you too, see you soon. Bye."

She hangs up and throws her phone back into her bag just in time to give the barista her coffee order.

She waits patiently for her latte to be ready, and when it is she takes it gratefully with a smile of thanks and wraps her hands around it. It's nearly 8am, and sure she's been up earlier than this for a body, but she won't deny she's tired.

A voice comes over the tannoy, calling her flight to board and she joins the line. She's flying first class, so she's near the front.

It seems like no time at all before she's settled into her seat on the plane, waiting for take off.

As soon as they're in the air, she curls up and rests her head against the wall, her headphones in. She sleeps for six of the seven hours, spending the last one awake and hardly able to contain her excitement.

The flight lands and she's one of the first off the plane. After going through the tedious security checks, she grabs her bag from the conveyor belt and strides through to the arrivals lounge.

There are only two people with name placards here. One of the placards reads Dr Singh, not her.

The other reads Nikki Heat. She smirks to herself and moves over to the man, who greets her as Ms Beckett and takes her bag.

The car journey takes way longer than she'd like, but eventually they arrive at the hotel.

It's the Hilton, and it's huge. Stretching into the sky and casting an enormous shadow over the street below.

She's a little intimidated by the grandeur. She walks up to the door and a bellhop takes her bags and ushers her inside. She makes her way over to the reception desk, but before she reaches it a familiar hand snakes around her waist. She leans back into him, just breathing the aroma she's missed so much.

She slept in his shirt until it ran out of his scent.

"Hello, beautiful." His voice rumbles into her ear and she shudders, arching into him.

"Do I need to check in?"

He squeezes her waist. "No, I have a key card for you. We can go straight up."

He drops his grip on her waist, taking her hand and leading her to the elevator. They're silent inside. She can see words on his tongue, knows he's trying to configure them so they say what he needs them to.

The room has two bedrooms, like LA. Only unlike LA, once they're inside he pushes her up against the door and kisses her passionately, tasting all that he's missed in the eighteen days they've been apart.

They break apart, gasping for breath. "God, I forgot how incredible you are."

She raises an eyebrow at him and grins. "Right back at you, stud."

The living area that connects the two bedrooms has an enormous window that stretches from floor to ceiling. It has nothing to cover it, and she can see the whole city stretching out below them, all twinkling lights and breathtaking architecture.

She loves this city already, old mixing with new seamlessly. She's never been here before. Manchester. She's been to the UK before, to London with her parents back in high school, but never anywhere else. That's why she chose these dates to fly out. She's going to see Manchester and Liverpool and Birmingham.

She slips out of her heels, bare feet relishing the luxurious carpet, toes wriggling.

There are two glasses already filled on the coffee table, a menu next to them. He gestures for her to take a seat and she does, waiting for him to sit too and then settling herself against his side. She's not a physical contact sort of person normally, but she came too close to forgetting how he feels and she has to remember.

He plucks the menu from the table, holds it across both their laps. "I figured you'd be tired so we can just get room service. Don't worry, I'll take you out, show you the city. But tonight all I need is you."

She shudders, tugs on his earlobe a little with her teeth, soothes him with her tongue. "Sounds perfect."

They order, and then they eat in companionable silence, each trying and failing to hide the glances. She's drinking him in and she can see him doing the same right back.

Afterwards, when their dishes have been taken away, when the food has settled a little, Rick stands.

He presses a button on some hidden stereo system and the smooth voice of Etta James fills the room.

He looks at her, really looks. His eyes sweeping over her figure. "Dance with me, Kate?"

She nods, suddenly dumbstruck. Takes him in her arms and allows him to sway her. Finds his ear with her lips, copying his move, and sings very softly to him.

_My love has come along, my lonely days are over_.

She feels him shiver and relishes the fact that she can do that to him. "I love Etta James. I always wanted to see her live. She died a few days ago, though, so I guess I never will."

The thought fills her with melancholia, staggeringly strong. How she longs to go and sway to the rich tones of Etta's voice live, with this man in her arms.

"I would have taken you." He kisses her temple.

"I know. I know you would have."

"Anything you want, anything you need. Just say the words and they're yours."

She fiddles with the ring he gave her. What she really wants is him, all of him. To love him in every way she can. She wants too, but she doesn't feel quite ready yet.

She yawns, suddenly exhausted, and he smiles with such love in his eyes that she can't help but kiss him softly. "I love you so much" he whispers as they part. How long she's waited for this, for the emotional stuff to come easily to her.

"I love you too."

He holds her for a while longer, both of them watching the city living and breathing below them. "Let's get you to bed, long day, huh?"

It isn't patronising. He just wants to care for her, wants to ensure she's happy and healthy and whole.

"Yeah. Will I see you tomorrow morning?"

He chuckles. "I have a signing tomorrow so I have to leave here at 9am. That's 4am New York time."

She smiles softly. "I'll be up. I don't want to miss you."

The double meaning of her words isn't lost on either of them, and she grins at him over her shoulder as she enters her bedroom.

She finds her bags, she hadn't even noticed the bellhop delivering them, she was so wrapped up in Rick.

She makes quick work of getting ready for bed, and she's asleep moments after her head hits the pillow.

* * *

><p><em>Your reviews made 12 Days such a beautiful experience. Do that again, please?<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Sometimes, a little getaway is just what you need. Sequel to 12 Days of Christmas._

_Castle is not mine._

_You don't need to have read 12 Days for this to make sense, but of course you're welcome to._

* * *

><p>She wants to lay herself bare to him. Wants to paint him with the multitude of colours that make up who she is.<p>

Take light, light that she is only just finding again and let it fracture into colours so intensely beautiful she forgets the dark.

But he's always been the shadows too. He's caused her his fair share of heartache. Most of it not his fault. She can't blame him for the pain her denial brought them both.

Her knees are against her chest, so she can feel every breath. Remember that they're here, they're doing this, and she isn't broken.

The ridges of her spine are almost painful against the headboard but it's alright. Worth it to see the sunlight dabble across his stubble like the reflection of sunrise.

He's almost smiling already, like even his subconscious knows she's here, is basking in it.

His shoulder blades are stark against the softness of the early morning. He's lost weight. She hopes it wasn't for her. She'd never ask him to change.

She can't help it; she reaches out and rests her hand against his scapula, her slender fingers just touching the notches of his spine. When she draws them away, his cobalt eyes are open and fixed on her face.

"Hey" her voice is rougher than she was expecting.

He swallows hard. "Good morning, beautiful. Why are you awake?"

She chuckles gently, still warm from his endearment. "I guess I'm jet lagged." A kiss to his cheekbone. "Is it a problem?"

An easy smile. "No, I've been waiting for this since I left you. I just thought I'd get to fall asleep with you in my arms before the first time I wake up next to you."

She can feel the line between her eyebrows. "I wanted-" she trails off. 'You' is still too much. 'To see you' is more than Kate knows how to say properly and she's not doing this unless she can do it right.

He rolls over onto his back, reaches out an arm for her. "Hey, no need to explain love."

She lets him pull her into his side. Rests her head against his heart and just listens. He strokes his hand through her hair.

"Just you being here makes me happier than I've ever been. I know words are my thing, but I can't think of any. There aren't any that work properly. Say what I want to say."

She cuts in, can't help it. "I love you."

His grin. God, how does she put words to the light in his eyes?

"I know. You show me every day. That's my point. Don't worry about the words. I just want you to be comfortable."

"I am. God, Rick, I am. It's okay. You don't ever need to worry. I'm sticking."

His hand comes up to rest against her cheek. "Look at me." she can't. "Look." She meets his eyes. He doesn't speak like she was expecting. Just looks at her, and allows everything to show. His eyes soft, the tilt of his mouth telling her everything. Until now, she didn't appreciate how well he's kept his emotions from his face.

This morning is too heavy. It's both comfortable and too much for her to bear for long.

"What's scheduled for today?"

He kisses her cheek softly. "I have the signing I mentioned last night at Waterstone's this morning. You can do whatever. And then this afternoon I don't really care as long as I get to be with you."

She blushes. "I missed you, Rick. Skype's okay I guess, but it's not the same."

He looks disturbingly solemn. "I didn't know I would miss you this much. I didn't know how much it would hurt."

She stretches her neck, kisses his jaw, shifting her face so his stubble scratches at her, so good. "I know. But I'm here now."

"What about next time?" His voice is a whisper.

She chokes. "Next time, we'll work something out. Maybe it'll hurt less. I think it's just because we've only just, you know."

He smirks. "Become a couple?" He loves that phrase. Couple. The two of them against the odds.

"Yeah. We haven't even been _together_, yet. I think it's just because we're right at the beginning stage where you can't get enough of each other."

He laughs, her head bouncing on his chest. "You can't get enough of me, Miss Beckett?"

She whacks him lightly. "Shut up. We need to get dressed."

* * *

><p>She doesn't dress in front of him. As much as she wants that, she still feels like she needs to wait just a little bit longer. And he seems quite content to wait for her.<p>

She's wearing jeans and a sweater, nothing exciting. Flat shoes. But the look he gives her when she exits her bedroom sends tingles shooting down her spine.

He looks at her like she's all he's ever seen and ever wants to see again.

She dips her head slightly, acknowledging the raw emotion on his face. "Can I come with you to Waterstone's? I think I'm just going to hang out in there until you're done."

She can't bear to be away from him so soon after they were reunited. She'll sit in the store, making sure he's in her line of sight and she'll read until he's done.

He smiles and closes the remaining distance between them, kissing the end of her nose gently. "Of course you can, love. As long as you won't get bored?"

She raises an eyebrow and smirks at him. "All of your crazy fangirls to look at? I'm sure I'll be plenty entertained."

He nudges her cheek with his nose, not even trying to look offended. "Kate. Part of my job is to play the flirtatious bachelor. I have to flirt and I have to pretend to be interested in these women."

Her smile falters. That might be hard to watch. Hell, it's going to be torturous.

"I just need you to know that when I look at them, all I'm seeing is you. That's how I'll get through it, by pretending they're you." His sigh dances along her cheekbone, she shudders.

Swallows the raw ache in her throat. "I know. I'll be fine. As long as you come back to me when it's over."

His eyes are closed. "Always." He opens them and they're soft and she's losing herself in them. "We'd better go, I told the car service we'd walk if that's alright?"

She takes his arm in hers. "Sure. It'll be nice to see more of the city."

The fresh air hits them as they make their way out of the foyer. It's bracing and cold, but lovely at the same time. It's an excuse to press herself closer to him.

She can't help but laugh at the enormous poster of him that adorns the front of the book store. He pokes her just under her ribcage in reprimand and she squirms.

Inside, he snags one of the staff. "Excuse me," he peers at the name badge, "Hannah. This is my partner Kate. She's going to be sitting here today reading while she waits for me to finish up. I need you to make sure she doesn't get hungry or thirsty or something."

Paula catches his eye and he excuses himself. Kate hovers to speak to the nervous girl. "Don't listen to him. He's just feeling over-protective today." She tries for a charming smile, falls a little flat. She doesn't like talking about her relationship with strangers. "I'll take care of myself, don't worry about it."

The girl nods and scurries away, leaving Kate to make her way back to Rick's side. She spots a little reading corner in line of sight of the table that has been set out for him and she smiles. Perfect.

She waits for Paula to be done speaking and then before something else snags his attention she turns him to meet her eyes. "I'm going to sit over there. If you need a bit of moral support just glance over and I'll be there okay?"

He smiles, not bothering to ask how she knew. She can see his nerves in every line of his body.

The staff open the doors and she scurries away to settle herself in the enormous armchair, a book on her lap. Not his. Every line, every word of his book tears at her, breaks her heart because this is what he did while she was gone and it shows. She doesn't trust herself to read it in public, especially not in front of him.

The time flies, before she knows what's happening a shadow is cast onto the page and she looks up and it's wonderfully, blessedly him. She stands too quickly, teetering slightly and allowing him to catch her. He folds his arms around her, kisses her hair and she allows the silence to remain intact, knowing somehow he needs a minute to wind down from the playboy persona.

And then he's ready and his hand is engulfing hers and he's leading her outside. "You want to do anything in particular?" His grin is wide and so beautiful. She knows he wouldn't like that particular descriptor, prefers ruggedly handsome, but it's true. He is so completely beautiful in the midday winter sun.

She shrugs. "Just wander round a little. Explore the city."

He stops her, leads her into a doorway. "Let me take you shopping. Let me buy you a dress for dinner tonight. I know you don't like me to spend my money on you, but I'm not being obnoxious or demeaning you or trying to turn you into some vapid 'kept woman', okay? I love you and I want you to have nice things because you deserve it."

And there's absolutely nothing she can do except nod.

* * *

><p>Dinner is wonderful. Her dress is black and flattering without being too clingy and revealing too much. She's always felt that sometimes covering up is way sexier, leaving it to the imagination, and she knows he loves the air of mystery that surrounds her.<p>

Not that it'll remain a mystery to him for much longer. He had wined and dined her, holding doors and her hand and her lower back.

He didn't order for her, insisted that she be the one to taste their wine. He's treating her like a woman without treating her like she is beneath him.

She wants to be beneath him. The look in his eyes, his calf against her stocking-clad toes under the table, she wants him. He manages to ask if she wants dessert through the choking haze of lust and she smirks, raises an eyebrow and says

"Yes, but I think we'd better go someplace more private."

And then he's begging their waiter for the cheque and leading her into a taxi and lavishing her mouth with his, hot breaths against her neck, sucking on the pulse point at her wrist.

He keeps his hands pointedly away from her in the elevator, but more than makes up for it once they're inside.

Later, an easy grin against the bare skin of his shoulder, their bodies still clammy and stuck together.

"Worth the wait?" Into her hair.

She nods against him, kisses the skin she can reach. "Absolutely."

* * *

><p><em>Glad you're all enjoying this so far.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

_Sometimes, a little getaway is just what you need. Sequel to 12 Days of Christmas._

_Castle is not mine._

* * *

><p>It's Saturday, and he has a signing scheduled for most of the day. It shouldn't hurt, but it does. He's going to be done by 5pm, definitely. He promises this while they lie together in the early morning sun, skin against skin, and so she believes.<p>

_Richard Castle believes in you and I believe in him_. Over a year ago, now, she uttered those words. They're still true. She thinks, hopes that they'll always be true.

He can't stop kissing her. Her shoulder, the crease at her elbow, her wrist, each fingertip. Oh,_ oh_, her ribcage. Hot breath on the underside of her breast and why did they wait so long.

He's worshipping her, that's what it feels like. "Shit, Katie." She grabs a handful of his hair, pulls him up to eye level.

"Don't call me Katie while we're naked, that's what my dad calls me."

He grins, moves to lavish her belly button with his tongue. "Oh, God, Kate. Beckett, Katherine, shit, you're so beautiful."

She's never heard him so sincere; it sends electricity down her spine, makes her whole body tingle in heady anticipation.

She tugs him up again, kisses him full and hot and hard, bruising but past the point of caring.

She wants him to think of her lips against his as he smiles into the faces of all the other women.

She breaks away, chest heaving, desperate for air but finding only him. "We have to get ready, your signing."

He sighs against her collar bone, laughs as she arches against him. "Okay, love. I just can't get enough of you, I'm sorry."

She smiles against him. "It's okay. I don't want to go either. But we have time, lots of time."

He allows her to take his hand and pull him from the bed. The morning light isn't what she'd call flattering, but he runs his hands up and down her sides, tugs her fully against him so he can kiss her. "How am I worthy of you?"

She flushes, kisses him again. Can't think of anything to say in response, so she doesn't bother. They get dressed together. It's the first time, but it feels like the hundredth.

He dresses her, really. It's the polar opposite of last night. This is not the lust that ruled everything then. This is love in its purest form.

He looks good. Crisp shirt, dark jeans. It's Saturday, and his publicist is expecting this to be his busiest signing. She isn't sure what she's going to do today, at least until he's done.

She's never been good at procrastinating. With her job, she rarely has time for it. With him, she doesn't either, because even just being with him has yet to become boring.

They've done that. After a difficult case, when he sees the strain at the corners of her eyes, he shows up at her door. They snuggle on her couch and watch TV or a film until they both forget.

She didn't think she was a snuggler, but he makes it seem so natural. His arms are so comfortable. He mumbles sweet nothings into her ear and she can't help but relax.

She's not going with him today. She wants to explore. Yesterday, he took her to all the high end boutiques, trying to find the perfect dress. Today, she wants to explore all the city has to offer.

She has to push him out of the door. She closes it behind him, leans back against it. It's an echo of Los Angeles again, but also so very different. She can't help but smile at the memories of last night. His lips and his teeth and his tongue and his undeniable love for her.

She has breakfast alone, coffee and toast, and it's bitter without him. She berates herself. She has to get it together. She was self-sufficient, once.

Outside, it's a beautiful day. Cold, she wraps her coat more tightly around herself, but a clear blue sky, crisp, fresh air. She doesn't mind the cold. She likes it, in fact. It's bracing and it's good for her and she smiles, again.

A little girl, maybe three years old, is staring at her, eyes wide with wonder. It makes her heart soar. So everyone can see how hopelessly in love she is. Good. She wants them too. She wants to proclaim from the rooftops that Kate Beckett has let him in, and damn, it was worth it.

She visits every store. They're a real mixture. This city doesn't quite have the diversity of New York, but it's still an eclectic mix. She doesn't buy anything. Honestly can't think of anything she needs, and she's not the type of person to buy crappy souvenirs.

She has lunch in a little bistro, sitting alone and not even caring. The waiter is young; she can see him eyeing her suggestively. So when he leaves after taking her drink order, she takes the ring that Rick got her, and she moves it to the fourth finger of her left hand.

She won't leave it there, won't let Castle see it there, but she doesn't want to have to stave off this man's affections, and it doesn't seem like a big deal.

* * *

><p>He can't remember the last time he was so overwhelmed by the tedium of a signing. He's smiling, of course, and it's not even forced. The thought of her body and her smile and the fact that she's here, in the city somewhere, is enough fuel for his grin.<p>

But damn it, he wants her. Not even like _that_, although his hypothesis that sex with her would be mind-blowing was definitely confirmed last night. He wants to hold her hand and go places with her. He just wants to be with her in any way she'll let him.

He has three hours left of this signing. They're finally allowing him to take a break for lunch, at 2pm. Of course, he can't help but call her.

"Hello?" he grins to himself. He's so used to her answering with her name that a simple hello sort of feels like a big deal. But then, she's on vacation.

"Hey, beautiful. How are you?"

She laughs at his sentimentality, but he can picture her face in his mind, the blush that he knows is steadily creeping across her cheeks.

"I'm alright. How's the signing?"

He sighs, and she laughs. "It's tedious. I can't stop thinking about you. I have three more hours and then I'm coming for you."

She laughs again, and his heart feels like it's soaring free from his chest. It fills him with such pride, that he can make her laugh. "Do you want me to come to you when you're done?"

"No. Met me by the eye." Paula catches his eye and he sighs. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you soon. Love you."

She sighs too, then. "Love you too, see you soon."

He goes back and settles himself at the table to wait for the next faceless bimbo. He doesn't sign chests anymore, told Paula he would not be doing that and he wanted anyone who asked removed.

She'd been angry, told him to stop being such a love sick puppy. And he'd told her she was fired if she uttered another word.

The time drags on and on. By 5pm, he's exhausted. The Manchester Wheel is a short walk away. He's yawning as he turns the corner, but then he sees her, long and slender and leaning against a wall, and he has to fight not to run to her.

He can't help but kiss her passionately. He knows they shouldn't, not here in the street where everyone can see, but he can't help it. She feels so good in his arms.

When he breaks away, she can't stop smiling and so neither can he. "Do you wanna go on the wheel, love?"

He won't call her babe. She means so much more than that to him, and she'd probably shoot him if he tried. She chews on her thumb, looks at the line for the wheel and then shrugs.

"Sure. I'd like that."

He takes her hand and they join the line. He wraps his arm around her waist, palm flat against her stomach. Holding her against him. she tells him about all the stores she visited, about the eager server at lunchtime.

He fakes a scowl. "I hope you told him you were very much taken."

She blushes, bites her lip. "I sort of showed him." she brings her left hand up to his eye line and oh. Oh. She's wearing his ring, has been since Christmas Day. But now she's wearing it on her ring finger.

He takes the ring, slides it onto her index finger again. Whispers into her ear. "Soon, Katie, you won't be pretending."

She shudders in his arms and he smirks, satisfied. They climb into the waiting compartment, and he moves her to stand in front of him so he can wrap both arms around her waist.

She leans back against him; he rests his head on her shoulder. The wheel stops turning and they can see the whole city spread out beneath them, dusky and beautiful.

Except he's not watching the city, he's watching her. She's utterly entranced. "Wow" she breathes and he can't help but kiss her for that, for the expression of captivated wonder on her face.

She's reluctant to leave the wheel until he says to her "let's go home" and then he's allowed to take her hand again and walk her back to their hotel, feeling like his insides are turning themselves inside out in the best possible way.

He has a day off tomorrow. He wants to go shopping again. He wants to buy this woman, this woman that he loves more than he ever knew he could, a ring.

* * *

><p><em>Tell me what you think.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_Sometimes, a little getaway is just what you need. Sequel to 12 Days of Christmas._

_Castle is not mine._

* * *

><p>It's difficult to extract himself from the bed. She's clinging to him, one arm around his waist, their legs tangled together. And damn it, he doesn't want to leave. She feels so good in his arms. But he wants to make today perfect for her.<p>

He gently prises her arms from around him and slips out of the bed. He dresses in sweats and a navy blue shirt. Catches sight of himself in the mirror while he uses the bathroom and has to stifle a laugh. Kate loves to play with his hair, and as a result it's mussed and sticking up all over the place.

Once he's done, he moves through to the living area. He calls downstairs for room service, orders breakfast to be delivered in twenty minutes. Then he leaves a note on the coffee table just in case she wakes up, and silently leaves the room.

He finds a vendor easily, buys her a bunch of flowers and makes it back up to the room just in time for the food to arrive. He takes it gratefully, gives the man who brought it a generous tip.

He finds a tall glass in the bathroom, fills it with water and puts the flowers in it. Then he arranges them on the tray with a glass of orange juice, a cup of coffee and the two plates of food. One has bacon, eggs, sausage, beans and tomatoes; the other has pancakes with cream and fresh berries.

He nudges the door to their bedroom open with his hip. Opens the slats of the blinds to allow sunlight to stream in, cast lines of light over the bed. He places the tray on the bedside table, climbs into the bed and drops gentle kisses all over her face until she wakes up.

She does, her eyes fluttering. She opens them to see him looking down at her, and an easy grin spreads across her face. All teeth and those beautiful lips and lines at the corners of her eye she didn't have when they met.

"Good morning, gorgeous." She reaches up to touch her mouth to his, and as she moves the tray catches her eye. He laughs softly. "Go and put some clothes on, love, and then we can eat."

She rolls her eyes. "Alright, bossy." He sticks his tongue out at her and she laughs and then disentangles herself from the sheets and strides across the room. She finds his button up from yesterday and pulls it on. He swallows the lump of lust in his throat and arranges the pillows so she can sit comfortably against the headboard.

She settles herself into the bed. He passes her the tray and then sits next to her, unable to stop himself from kissing her cheekbone, the slope of her jaw. "I'll take the pancakes. Do you want the other plate?"

He pokes her ribcage. "No, it's all for you. I have another plate."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Where?"

"In the other room."

"Go get it." she drops her fork onto the tray and he knows she won't take a single bite until he has his own food.

He's as fast as he can, almost running to get his tray. She laughs at him as he skids back into the room, almost throws himself into the bed.

She grabs her coffee, holds it aloft so it doesn't spill. "You really need to calm down."

He kisses her full on the mouth. "Sorry. Can't help it. In bed with the love of my life, you know."

She doesn't recoil, and he's so grateful. Today is going to be a big day. They eat quietly for a while; he can't help but lick the whipped cream from her bottom lip. She steals half of his berries as well and he doesn't even pretend to care.

"So, I was thinking today we could go to the Museum of Science and Industry. If you want?"

She grins. One of the things he loves about her is her searing intelligence. She's as much of a nerd as he is, and it's such a refreshing change from the vapid, airheaded girls he's always been surrounded with.

"That sounds good. Hey Rick?"

"Hmm?" He mumbles through a mouthful of eggs.

She gestures to the food. "Thank you for this. No one's ever brought me breakfast in bed before."

He swallows, kisses her. "Anything for you."

She laughs, pushes him away and climbs from the bed. "We have to get ready if we're going out."

He nods and follows her. Getting dressed takes him longer than it should, he can't stop staring at her. She notices, he knows she does, but she doesn't deign to respond.

He takes her hand again. He still gets tingles every time she allows him to. Can't quite believe it. He knows it's ridiculous, the two of them look like they're on their honeymoon. That thought makes his knees give a little and she looks at him quizzically. But then they're in the elevator and he's allowed to kiss her, chaste of course but still more than he'd ever hoped for.

* * *

><p>The museum isn't too busy; it's a Sunday after all. He's fascinated by it all, has always loved science although words are his forte. But the thing that really makes it magical is that Kate seems just as captivated. She wants to stop and look at everything, read all the informative signs, and of course he's happy to humor her.<p>

"Rick, look." He turns to look at her, a little overwhelmed at the childlike wonder in her voice, how it makes him love her.

And then she's almost running over to the planetarium and he's jogging to keep up. "Whoa, love, don't go without me." she slips through the doors and stops dead inside. Her head tilts back; he goes to stand behind her and manoeuvres himself so her head can rest on his shoulder.

The stars are beautiful. Completely, utterly beautiful. It takes his breath away, makes him feel so very insignificant. Looking at this, he feels an idiot for ever worrying. He won't make any sort of impact in the long run.

And then she turns to look at him. "It's so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here." And he smiles, because he's significant to her and he doesn't need anything else, not ever.

That's why he wants to do this now, while she's happier than he's ever seen her. In the planetarium, with the stars watching. He drops down on one knee in front of her, takes her hand. A few heads turn, but there's not many people in there to see. He's glad, knows she won't want everyone's attention on her.

He smiles up at her. She's already tearing up a little bit. "Kate, it's been almost three years. Three wonderful, magical, beautiful years. You know who I was, what I was like, when we met. I was immature and selfish. But you changed that. Katie, I love you. I have for a long time. And someone, somewhere must be smiling down on me because you love me too. I don't deserve you. You're strong and passionate and brilliant and beautiful. I love being with you and I love that I'm a better person because of you. You make me continually strive to be better, do better, deserve you. If you'll have me, I'll continue to do so for the rest of our lives, together. Katherine Beckett, will you do me the immeasurable honour of becoming my wife?"

She pulls him to his feet, a stunning smile on her face and then she kisses him. He breaks away, kisses her nose. "Is that a yes?"

She laughs. "No ring, Richard?"

He shakes his head, kisses her again because God, she said _yes_. "I'm not that stupid, Kate. I'll let you choose it."

She grins, can't stop herself and kisses him again. "Yes. Yes, yes, of course, you ridiculous man." He's suddenly aware of the applause of all the other people in the room and apparently so is she because she buries her face in his neck. He kisses her hair, wraps his arms around her back. "I love you."

She pulls back to look at him, still smiling. "I love you too, so much."

He wants to take her home, right now. Not to the hotel, to New York. To his loft.

She doesn't actually live with him, not officially. But she never seemed to go home after Christmas. She's been staying in the guest room, granted, not ready to share a bed with him yet. But she's been there. And he doesn't ever want her to leave.

"Katie, move in with me, please."

She laughs, eyes dancing with elation. "I think you have your questions the wrong way round. But yes, of course."

He can't stop smiling. He takes her hand, leads her out of the planetarium. She seems to have completely lost interest and he smiles, glad they already saw everything else.

"Do you want to go look for a ring?"

She turns to him, grinning. "I have a ring, Rick." She waves her finger in his face again. and again, he takes the ring from her ring finger. Only this time, he cradles her hand in his and slides it back onto her ring finger, kissing her knuckle.

"You sure you don't want a real engagement ring?"

She smiles again, kisses him. "This is real, Rick. It's us. Unorthodox, but it works."

He pulls her into his arms, kisses her again. "If you're sure?" She nods and he shrugs. Fair enough, if she's happy. And by the look on her face, she's definitely happy.

They walk back to the hotel, eat room service for dinner and then pack their cases. Half of her stuff is in his case and it fills him with warmth. The car service picks them up and she settles into his side. The journey is about an hour. She falls asleep, her head resting against his chest.

Her hand winds up resting on his thigh and he spends the entire journey stroking the length of her finger, trying not to cry because she said yes. She said yes and she's going to marry him.

* * *

><p><em>I know this is maybe a little OOC and ridiculously sappy, but I've been putting them through hell in some of my other stories and this is my reprieve from that, my fluffy little haven. Plot? What is a plot?<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_This has taken me way too long, I know. I'm sorry. I just couldn't work out where I wanted it to go. And then I got sucked into another story, Ignition, which you should all go and read immediately. No, I'm kidding, but of course you're welcome to if you want to see what caused me to abandon this. Anyway, enjoy._

* * *

><p>It's sitting on her chest when she wakes, icy and unforgiving. She tries to swallow it down, push it away, but it's tough. The room is unfamiliar and she can't decide if that helps or not.<p>

Yesterday morning she lived in a single bedroom apartment that costs her too much for what it is and she was dating her best friend. Now, she's moving into a loft that she has no desire to know the cost of. Oh, and she's engaged.

Shit. She sits up, the sheets of the bed tangling around her calves. He's next to her, she can hear him breathing and it's all she can think about. She fights her way free from the bed, scrambles into the bathroom and sinks to the tile.

She loves him. She does. She's so very in love with him. She wants to live with him and she wants to marry him. But it's been a month. Just a month. And yes, it's also been nearly three years, but everything inside her is screaming _too fast_.

But then he's there, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her. He looks panicked, and she knows he knows her and he knows what she's thinking. He doesn't touch her, doesn't speak, just waits.

When she finally speaks, she's ashamed at how broken her voice is. "Are you sure it isn't too fast?"

He takes her hand, then, and she isn't sure if he's trying to reassure her or himself. "Kate, I've loved you for a long time. I'm always going to love you. And I want to show that to the world. I want you to be my wife. But if you want to wait, if you're not ready, then I'm happy to carry on as we are."

She can't breathe past the weight of his love for her, her bones are too heavy inside her. She needs to not think. "Kiss me?"

He does, until she can't think straight and everything is him again. "I want to marry you. But we only slept together for the first time three days ago. Don't you think it's too soon?"

He laughs, it echoes around the bathroom, trapping itself in the tiles. "I think I want you, in my life and my heart and my bed. And what about our relationship has ever fit the stereotype?"

She dips her head, hair falling around her face. He tucks it back behind her ears, fingers just touching her cheekbones. "Look, I'm not going to lie, it matters to me. I want to make you my wife. But if this is too soon, then we can wait. It's alright, Katie. Don't rush into this to please me."

She chokes back a sob. She still can't fathom this beautiful man, who will do anything for her. She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what she wants.

"Look, I'm not planning the wedding for tomorrow. It just means that someday, we're going to get married. It doesn't have to be anytime soon. I know it's old fashioned and I'm really not trying to oppress you, but I want to claim you. I'm sorry for being a caveman, but I do. I want the world to know that you're mine and I'm yours."

She can feel in the back of her brain that she should be mad that he wants to claim her, but it's flattering and because it's him, it's sweet. And yes, he has her. She's screwed, because she has no choice but to say yes, not really. "Alright. Alright."

He kisses her gently, breath against the hair on her cheeks, making it dance. "You good?"

She smiles, stretches her neck out to kiss him again. "Yeah, we're good."

His kisses are languid and lazy. She thinks, this is how couples who have been together for years kiss. "Do you want to get breakfast someplace in the city?"

She does. She wants to hold his hand and rest hers on the table so the whole world can see that she's going to marry him. "Uhm, what exactly is this city?"

He laughs. She was too tired last night to pay attention to where they were going. She has a brief recollection of him waking her, of being almost asleep by his side in the elevator. "It's Liverpool, love."

Oh. Okay. "Breakfast?" He grins and helps her up, one hand spanning her ribs. She tries not to shudder, fails, and laughs as he kisses her clavicle.

"There's a cute little café on the waterfront. It does breakfast." She shrugs. She doesn't mind where they go to eat, as long as they're together. She can't even find the inclination to scold herself.

He stands up, goes to get dressed. She follows him and dresses too, catching him smiling at her and kissing him softly for it. He opens the blinds of their hotel room and then freezes, gaze locked outside.

He inhales softly, beckons to her without turning away from the window. She moves over to stand next to him, looks out too. She can't help but laugh gently. The whole city is coated in a blanket of snow. It's beautiful. It erases the blemishes she knows this city boasts, just like all the others. Makes it seem like a smooth, perfect dreamscape.

She squeezes his hand. "It snows all the time in New York, Cas. Not a big deal."

He finally turns to look at her, kisses the tip of her nose. "Yeah, but we can enjoy it _together_."

She flushes. Whenever it has snowed back home, she's always been quick to shoot him a look before he dares suggest they skip work to roll around in it or something equally Castle-esque. But here, they can do that. They can do whatever they want. She doesn't feel like herself and it's terrifying and liberating in equal parts.

She tugs him away from the window by the wrist. "We have to actually go outside to enjoy it." He laughs, rummages through the suitcases and pulls out a deluge of knitwear. Wraps a scarf around her neck and damn, she's not shivering. She _isn't_.

He leads her outside. He can't stop touching her. A firm hand at her back, fingers circling her wrist to catch her, hold her close to him. His lips feathering at her jaw, her temple. It's grounding. Reminds her that she's here. Good.

…..

She let him feed her. He speared some of the fruit that came with their pancakes and advanced towards her mouth, heart pounding. He expected her to clam up, but instead she opened her mouth for him, beaming. Caught the fruit in her teeth and snaked her tongue out to lick the whipped cream from her lip. Shit. Her lips, her tongue, her teeth.

She watches him stare at her, the soft smile on her face. The one she has when she's waiting for him to come back to her. He shakes his head slightly, clearing the cobwebs. He still can't quite believe she's really here with him. "Okay?" She raises her eyebrow at him.

He grins like a fool. "Yes, yeah. I love you." She blushes, and he laughs.

Afterwards, they walk along by the docks, hand in hand. Her fingers fill the spaces between his. it's a little uncomfortable, his fingers are stocky and hers are slender. But the fact that she's holding him regardless more than makes up for it.


End file.
